He stood next to a sleek black BMW, a stoic and hardened expression etched onto his face. Dressed entirely in black, he seemed to merge with the shadows, his jet-black hair framing his chiseled features and highlighting his piercing steel-colored eyes.

If a mountain could grow legs and become a person, it would undoubtedly be Rhys Larsen. Towering at an imposing 6’5”, he possessed broad shoulders and an unyielding demeanor that commanded respect and authority. In the royal court, whispers surrounded his presence, but they were overshadowed by the undeniable aura of danger that clung to him—an aura befitting your new bodyguard.

You, the princess of Eldorra, found yourself in the midst of a chaotic world, where safety was a fleeting luxury. As he dipped his head in acknowledgment, the air around him felt charged with intensity.

“Rhys Larsen,”

He introduced himself, his voice low and steady, devoid of any hint of warmth.

In that moment, you realized that beneath his hardened exterior lay a protector, bound to you by duty. Yet, the question lingered: could you trust this man who seemed carved from the very stone of the mountains he resembled?